Happy-go-lucky

I snuck off to the cinema during the day last week to see the new Mike Leigh film, Happy-Go-Lucky. Absolutely loved it from start to finish, although it was rather depressing that no one else seemed to be laughing apart from me in the cinema (ok there were only about 5 other people in there, but all the same... actually generally speaking I find daytime audiences are waaay too serious, but I digress...)

Poppy has stayed with me, and today I had the dawning realisation that she was possibly inside my head more than I'd realised. I've been thinking about what I've been up to this week and have so far:

- Bought some really bright and cheery clothes in a bid to liven up my wardrobe and escape the grey/black combos that seem to have defined my life for the last year or so

- Gone to Regents Park for a lovely sunny walk with J, and admired the boating lake whilst enjoying my first ice cream of 2008

- And finally, just to top it all off, today I bought a bike

Still, I'd rather that Poppy has inhabited my head than the scary driving instructor, I guess. And oh man I found the *best* ever shop to get my bike from. It's called ReCycling (geddit?) and can be found under the arches at the less-than-pleasant Elephant and Castle shopping centre. What a find. There I met Susan, the hungover 40 year old boss who was sweeping the floor and not happy about it, and Sarah, the 6.5 foot tall bike mechanic who was a craftswoman in the way Prof Sennett means it. Amazing. And in exchange for some crumpled notes rather than the usual chip-and-pin rigmarole, they let me have my beautiful little recycled bike for a mere £70. New brakes, cables and a basket chucked in too. Leaving them left me with a warm glow - not just from the slightly terrifying experience of cycling on London roads again after a two-year break...

Now let's just hope the little buggers in my block don't nick this one. And that I find a dress like the one Poppy wore to visit her dull sister by the seaside. C'mon Top Shop, you know you can do it.

Hmph

Today I am cross and grumpy thanks to a very very sore back induced by some unnecessary experimentation at the gym. I got all excited to see that my wonderful gym has installed new power plate machines - I've read loads about how wonderful they are, how they tone you up twice as fast as normal exercise etc - all sounded a bit to good to be true to be honest. Especially when you see the kinds of pictures (see the example I've included here) on the website. And it turns out that all they did for me was knacker my back. On my holiday. Grrrr. Think it'll be back to the standard workout, via a very useful sounding sports clinic which comes highly recommended by G. Should have stuck to the running.

Dancing queens and jive bunnies

So last night A and I were reminiscing about the time he threw me around the room (we called it 'dancing') at an otherwise rather dull party. Thanks to a good amount of wine drinking then, as well as last night, we were congratulating ourselves on our excellent moves, and thinking that we should perhaps hone our skills further at some dance classes.

London is being taken over by jive, it seems. I had a fabulously fun evening down in Catford (is this possible) a few months back, courtesy of the Rivoli ballroom*. It really is spectacular: a beautifully preserved dance hall with velvet trimmings, a proper sprung floor and an american diner-style bar. And a very fun way of spending the evening - starting with a class (good chance to check out the talent, naturellement) and continuing with being whirled around the room by various men. Am sure it's altogether a less stressful experience as a woman, as the men are very much in charge, although i confess i struggled a little with the whole letting go thing for a while before deciding it was really rather a relief.

Anyway. More please. This site has a useful list of dance classes by day; the Pineapple Studios one on a Wednesday looks most convenient - £10, call 01895 613 703 or check out their website. Incidentally, my male friend M can dance like a demon and he has never had so many interested women in his life. So boys, get your dancing shoes on.


* I note with some trepidation that the Rivoli has just been put up for sale. Watch this space.

Lotte Berk method

Let's face it, I've never been a fan of my bum. Lotte Berk sounds ace - based on ballet, you choose whether to do 100% classes or work out to a video and supplement this every now and then. DVD is called The Lotte Berk Method: high round assets. her classes are in fulham and happen at these times - don't forget to book!